


That Which Is Hidden

by ladydragon76



Series: Kismet [11]
Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Just what has Drift gotten himself into here?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Which Is Hidden

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** Kismet  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Mirage/Blurr/Drift  
>  **Warnings:** None  
>  **Notes:** Directly follows _Who Do You Think You Are?!_. Been wanting to do this one a while. I promised my favorite enabler I would, so been at it when I could manage this past week plus (maybe two now?). Of course, she had wanted funny sex, and this totally turned into Drift thinking _way too fragging much_! Forgive me? Slagger just wouldn’t _play_! Mess with Blurr? Sure. Play and relax? Nope. Sexy? Nope, but there is smut. I kept threatening to scrap it and start over, but damnit, I actually kinda like how thinky it is. I’ve done this whole series from Blurr and Mirage’s POVs, but this one is in Drift’s, and I find myself just interested in what he saw. IDEK, dudes. Is what it is, whatever that may be. Hope you like it anyways!

Drift followed Blurr, amused and a little confused, and not at all distracted by the coy, over-the-shoulder-smolder he was given, or swinging hips. He knew Blurr and Mirage had been together before. Pits, the Racer’d somehow managed to rile Mirage up enough to nail him on the public balcony of a space station. Not many _didn’t_ know about that little episode.

So why dodge the question about how long they’d had a thing going?

Drift’s optics narrowed as seeing Springer made him wonder just why the mech put Mirage and Blurr in the same quarters. What did he know? Blurr wasn’t watching, too busy thinking Drift was glaring at him or something. Drift smirked, and let him walk right into Springer, who just stood there, arms crossed and looking about seven shades past annoyed.

Blurr bounced off the big mech, and since Drift really was in the mood to get laid, caught him before he hit the decking.

“You two,” Springer growled, pointing. Drift’s optic ridge arched. He hadn’t done anything. But since when did he actually need to _do_ something to irk Springer? “Leave Mirage alone.”

“Springer-“

“If you whine at me, I’m going to airlock you.” Drift couldn’t see from his angle, but Blurr’s pout must’ve been spectacular given the way Springer’s face darkened. “Leave. Mirage. Alone. Go spend the night with Drift.”

“Why am I being punished?” Drift asked, snickering at Blurr’s insulted gasp. 

“Because you’re right here along with him, aren’t you?”

“That is _my_ room!” Blurr said, shaking off Drift’s hands, and stepping forward. Points to the light-weight for not fearing Springer would smack him in this mood. “You can’t ban me from my own fragging berth!”

“Sure I can,” Springer said. He reached around Blurr, gripped his shoulders, twisted, and shoved the Racer at Drift. “You’re bunking in Drift’s room tonight. Go, and don’t let me catch you near Mirage.”

Drift caught Blurr again, and was momentarily distracted with an armload of hissing, genuinely peeved Racer. They both paused as Mirage’s voice rose in question.

“What in Primus’ name is going on out here?”

“Ensuring you some peace. Blurr will be recharging with Drift tonight, so the room’s yours.”

Mirage’s mouth flattened. “And if I desired company tonight?”

Springer stared a moment, then huffed. “Contrary fraggers! The entire lot of you!” He threw his hands up, and stomped off grumbling about ingrates.

“Think he’s nervous about the report you’ll give when you get back to Command,” Blurr said. Drift recognized the purr and the way he cocked a hip out to the side. Brat was pretty, and knew just how to stand so that the utilitarian ship lights flashed off the angles of his plating.

Mirage’s optics swept down then up, distain compressing his mouth again. “The mission was a success. What else would I report?” He waved an elegant hand in the air dismissively, and Drift realized that he too, knew just how to stand.

He blinked, and suddenly realized the draw these two had on each other. Of course the laugh burst out of him before he could stop it, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t necessary for their fun anyway. It was pretty damn funny realizing that all their posturing and snarking was flirting. Trying to show the other they were worthy? Or show the other that he wasn’t? Drift couldn’t measure up either way, and kept snickering as Racer and Noble stared at him.

“Did he just glitch out?” Mirage asked.

Blurr shrugged, and grinned. “Who cares? Drift never laughs. This is good.” Drift was suddenly being snuggled, Blurr’s arms wrapping around one of his, face close. “I like your laugh,” he purred.

Drift shook his head. “You two are ridiculous.” Mirage gasped, and the smile on Blurr’s face faltered a little. “You’ve fragged before, and instead of us all being in a berth already, you’re standing here posing at each other.”

“It is called flirting.”

“It’s called entertaining as all Pit,” Drift shot back. He pulled his arm free from Blurr’s grasp, and grinned. “It’s also a bit of a time waster. Blurr wanted me to help him seduce you. You’re hot. He’s hot. And I… know how to show a mech a good time at least. I’ll be in my bunk. Either or both of you are welcome to join me.” Drift watched them share a look, then turned to go see if he was still getting laid or not.

“Drift?” Mirage called be he could take a step. He looked back over his shoulder at the Noble. “He enlisted you to help seduce me?”

“Yeah.”

Mirage’s optics narrowed slightly behind his mask, and Blurr shivered. Interesting. “I have a better idea.”

“Mirage…”

Drift was positive there was something going on that he couldn’t detect. Some game they’d played in the past maybe? Blurr shifted, knees bending just a touch, legs tensing. Drift grabbed him by the upper arm on instinct. No way was the little slagger running off now. He’d started all this.

“Thank you, Drift,” Mirage murmured, cultured tones dipping into something that made Drift’s sensor net tingle a bit. He glided closer, Blurr beginning to tremble in Drift’s hold. Oh yeah, something going on. Definitely. “I believe we should work together. Seduce Blurr instead.”

Drift smirked as he took in Blurr’s face. “Not much of a challenge.”

Tinkling laughter as Mirage reached one elegant hand out to trail a finger down the center of Blurr’s chest. The Racer whimpered. “Indeed. Perhaps a different game then?”

Drift briefly wondered if Mirage could just talk and tease Blurr into overloading right here in the hall, but said, “Blurr likes games.”

“Mm. Does he?”

 _You would know,_ Drift thought.

“Berth,” Blurr gasped.

“Privacy matters to you?” Drift snickered. “Since when?” he asked Blurr.

“Since I do not wish to have Springer come along to interrupt our fun.”

Drift tipped his helm in acknowledgement to Mirage. He dipped, hauling a squawking Blurr up over his shoulder. “This way,” he told Mirage, and went to his quarters, one hand planted on Blurr’s aft to keep him from falling as he wriggled.

All the rooms on the Xanthium were basically alike, but Drift still felt a twinge of shame. He kept his quarters as neat and clean as possible, and not having many possessions helped that. He still somehow managed to feel judged as Mirage glanced around. Drift walked to the berth, and dumped Blurr there, then removed the Great Sword to put it in its brackets on the wall.

“A fine weapon,” Mirage said.

“Thanks.” Drift shrugged, and turned. He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “Where should we start?” he asked, watching as Blurr half-sat in the middle of his berth.

Mirage purred, one finger tapping against his lower lip as he paced closer to Blurr. “A good question. I would suggest one at his helm, the other at his feet, but I believe I recall his reaction to his legs being touched to be a strong one. A leg each perhaps?” Mirage tipped his helm to look at Drift as they both stopped beside the berth. “That seems a touch more fair.”

Drift smirked as Blurr curled in on himself and whimpered. He knew from experience too, that the Racer’s legs and hips were full of hotspots. “You want the left or the right?”

Mirage slid one knee onto the berth. “Left will do.”

Drift shrugged, and sat on the edge once Mirage was out of the way. “Why you all hunched up?” he asked, catching Blurr’s right ankle and pulling.

“Maybe I’m nervous?”

Mirage beat Drift to the disbelieving snort.

“Lies get punished where I’m from,” Drift growled, pinching a wire. Blurr’s optics widened as he gasped.

Mirage found his own line to tweak. “ _Poor_ lies were punished in the Towers.” He flashed a grin at Drift.

“I’m not sure this is fair,” Blurr said, trying to tug his feet away from them.

Drift gripped the back of Blurr’s knee, and yanked him forward. Blurr dropped to his back with a yelp.

“He doth protest over much,” Mirage purred, and pulled a cloth from his subspace.

“Weird, ‘cuz usually it’s begging and pleading by now.”

“He was the aggressor last time.”

“All just a game, huh?” Drift watched, his own hands playing over Blurr’s leg, as Mirage began to clean the energon flecking thigh vents. He looked, noticing the same on ‘his’ leg as well. Thinking about it, he’d seen it before a few times, but hadn’t thought much of it. “You wounded?” Blurr was busy panting, optics shut. Drift poked him. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You hurt?” Drift asked again, pointing to Blurr’s thigh vents.

“Oh. No, that just happens sometimes. Ran hard today.” Blurr flopped back, bouncing his leg in Drift’s lap. “Touch me, ‘face me, something.”

“And now he gets demanding.” Mirage wiped across the last vent slat, and held the cloth out to Drift.

“He’s a spoiled brat.”

“Most certainly.”

Drift didn’t miss the fondness in Mirage’s reply, and took the cloth. There _was_ something he was missing. He was sure of it. There was more here than two once-wealthy mechs playing games from their long-dead culture. He wondered if it was _him_ being seduced instead of helping one of them chase down the other. He teased his fingers into the gaps of Blurr’s plating, thinking. This was slower than usual. If it had been just him and Blurr, they’d have overloaded by now and been working toward a second.

“He’s a tight little thing,” Drift said. “May have to work him loose before we can both take him.” Gold optics jumped to Drift’s face, and Blurr moaned. “Don’t want to?”

Mirage was silent a moment, and Blurr whimpered. “As you said. Small. I had not considered trying such a thing.”

Drift shrugged. Concern, despite Blurr’s obvious approval. “Tons of things we can do. Don’t need to be that.”

“Yes it does,” Blurr cut in.

“No real medics here,” Mirage said.

Drift snickered, imaging Perceptor’s reaction if they went to him to repair a damaged valve. “If _we_ think he can take it in a little while, we can attempt it.”

“Fraggers!”

“If not, we just skip it,” Drift continued as though Blurr hadn’t spoke.

“Agreed.”

“Hate you both. Teasing glitches!”

Mirage pinched a cable at the back of Blurr’s knee, the Racer’s whole body jerking. “Now, now. Poor lies will be punished.”

“You’re so pretty,” Blurr sneered.

“That’s not a lie,” Drift chuckled, running a fingertip around the seam of Blurr’s interface panel. It clicked and retracted.

“Thank you,” Mirage said, leaning to the side and kissing Drift’s cheek.

“Should at least kiss him right,” Blurr grumbled, hips squirming as Drift traced the edge of his array without touching the softer metal.

“Mn. Should I?” Mirage asked, face still close to Drift’s.

Light fingers pressed just enough against Drift’s chin to encourage him to turn his helm. And really? Why the frag not? He’d never land Mirage on his own, and isn’t that what they were all here for? He tipped his helm, letting Mirage guide the kiss, and grinning a little as Blurr moaned.

“Fragging hot.”

“He’s a kinky little bastard,” Drift said, nipping at Mirage’s lips.

“Indeed.” Said in the ‘oh, you have _no_ idea’ tone. Though Drift kind of thought he did.

Drift chuckled, and pulled back. He tipped his helm, watching his fingertip circle Blurr’s valve, the way the Racer whimpered, hips winding to try and follow. “Bet I can make him scream louder.”

A confident smirk. “The prize?” Mirage asked.

Blurr growled. “ _Somebody_ better ‘face me now, or I’m leaving.”

“You couldn’t walk two steps right now,” Drift said, and continued to tease. “Winner tops loser?”

Mirage smiled. “You Wreckers and your ‘topping’. Forget the power of a skilled valve.”

Drift chuckled, deciding this was rather fun, and watched Blurr shake as he kept his caress to Blurr’s spike just firm enough not to tickle. Mirage had stopped his teasing touches to the Racer’s thigh, leaving Drift to go first it seemed. Blurr’s fingers clawed into the berth surface, and he gasped a curse that actually made Mirage twitch.

Drift grinned. “You can do better than that.” He released the spike, and plunged two fingers into Blurr’s valve. The Racer’s back bowed off the berth, a sharp cry echoing in the room, and his trembling reaching a new pitch. He tried to thrust back, but Drift planted a hand flat on his belly and held him down.

“You are going to bring him to release with just your hand?” Mirage asked.

“No. Got something else in mind.” Drift gave Blurr a wicked smile, and licked his bottom lip as cobalt optics shot to his face. “What you want, isn’t it?”

“Primus!” Blurr whimpered, then keened as Drift took his hand away and sucked his fingers clean. “Drift!”

“Loud,” he ordered, then leaned forward, taking Blurr deep with his mouth. Drift didn’t bother looking, but he was sure the Racer’s stream of rapid-fire curses and pleading had Mirage’s tender sensibilities flinching again. He worked the sensor node laden underside, sucking up, then licking down. He didn’t do this often _ever_ , and he’d never given in to Blurr’s less than subtle prods or blatant requests. He didn’t doubt his skill, but it’d always felt… forced or expected before. Blurr hadn’t even bothered him lately. Made a difference for Drift.

That, and he wanted to out-do the Noble.

When a hand landed on the back of his helm, Drift caught Blurr’s wrist and pinned it to the berth, growling. Blurr’s babbling had faded to a near constant moan punctuated by sharp gasps. His hips rolled in abbreviated circles. Drift released his wrist, and went back to teasing the rim of the Racer’s valve.

It didn’t take much time at all. Blurr wailed, body shaking with tension as he overloaded.

Drift sat up, and grinned. Blurr was blissed out, optics shut, helm lolling.

“A pretty show, but that hardly lent toward stretching him out for both of us.”

“Fun though. Half the ship heard that.” Drift snickered, and nudged Blurr’s leg. “Bet Springer did.” He chuckled at the moan that got him. Kinky, narcissistic brat.

Mirage gestured Drift out of the way, and Drift watched as he touched and teased Blurr, winding him right back up. Drift knew a few of Blurr’s hotspots, but he learned even more from watching Mirage. The vents were a given. So were the pipes in the Racer’s sides. But Drift hadn’t known that tracing the central seam of his chest plates would leave him writhing and panting.

There was a spot on Blurr’s back too. Mirage had laid over him, hips rolling smoothly. He’d pushed his hands under Blurr’s back, and only a moment later Blurr cried out. Loud and sharp and hungry, his fingers digging in hard enough to scratch the finish on Mirage’s shoulders.

Drift listened to all the pretty sounds from the pretty Racer, and while it heated his circuits he could only conclude these two knew each other pretty damn well. He was also sure he was going to lose the little bet over which of them could make Blurr louder. Blurr yelped, body tensing, and Drift shivered, bracing himself for what promised to be one Pit of a scream.

The shriek was high in pitch, so much so that Blurr’s vocalizer glitched to static and cut out. The sound probably wasn’t even heard just beyond the door.

One helluva show though, Drift though, shivering again, respiration picking up. Mirage followed Blurr over almost instantly.

Their recovery was slow, and Drift again felt distinctly unnecessary, especially as Mirage lifted his helm. Their optics met for only a moment, but it was more than enough for Drift.

“It seems you win,” Mirage said, giving Drift a smile as he pulled away from his lover.

Drift shrugged. “Maybe a draw. Busting his vocalizer has to count for something.” He waved it off, looking back down at Blurr. “Think we’re losing him anyway.”

Mirage glanced down too, then frowned. “Blurr. It is poor manners to fall into recharge when entertaining.”

Blurr mumbled something, but Drift knew that look. Racer was out for the count. He chuckled quietly, and stretched out along the edge of his berth, dragging Blurr’s back against his chest to give Mirage a narrow space to rest as well. He signaled the lights to dim some, then got comfortable.

Mirage looked put upon for a few moments, but finally lay down as well. Drift watched him over Blurr’s shoulder.

“So how long?”

Mirage blinked. “How long?”

Drift snorted, not terribly concerned about waking Blurr in his current state. Mirage didn’t twitch over it in concern either. “How long have you been together?”

Mirage’s face remained placid, his voice even. “We entertain one another whenever we can.”

“I bet.”

“What are you implying?”

Drift shook his helm. “May want to be careful who else you bring to your berth. They might not catch on, but I’m not the only observant mech in the ‘verse.”

Golden optics narrowed into a glare. “I ask again. What are you implying?”

“That you and Blurr are hiding a deeper connection. Not that I care. But you wanna keep it a secret, might want to be a little more cautious than you were tonight.”

Mirage’s placid mask was gone, and even with the actual mask obscuring the upper half of his face, Drift knew he was fragged off. “What do you want?”

Drift tipped his helm. “Want?”

“To keep your information to yourself.”

“Nothing. Told you. Not interested in what’s going on here.” Drift gestured between Blurr, who was stirring, and Mirage. “Plainly important to you, and important it stay quiet, right? I’m used to looking for tidbits to use against a mech, but others aren’t stupid. If you’re as blatant as you both were tonight, someone’s going to figure it out that _will_ care.”

Mirage eyed him for a moment, hand stroking down Blurr’s side, soothing him deeper into recharge. Drift tipped his helm, looking pointedly at Mirage’s hand, then back at his face.

Mirage’s hand stilled. “You will keep this to yourself?”

Drift huffed, and lay down better behind Blurr.

“He is… important to me.”

“Gee, really?”

“Will you watch over him for me?”

Drift propped himself back up. “Gonna use me as cover then?”

“No one else knows.” Mirage paused. “That is, he told Ironhide after… Hardly need to worry there, however, do we?” Drift waited. Mirage shifted. “We met when he was just beginning his career as a Racer. I invited him to a party, thinking it would be novel for my guests to meet the rookie star that had taken over the tracks. We woke up together the next morning.”

Drift shook his helm. “Long damn time.”

Mirage gave a short laugh. “A very long damn time,” he agreed, optics lifting to bore into Drift’s. “None know. None have ever guessed.”

“Most don’t know what to see.” Drift realized what he’d said after the words were out, but Mirage smirked at him.

“Anyone I know?”

“He’s dead.”

The smile was gone in an instant. “My condolences.”

Uncomfortable, Drift flicked his hand. “He going to want me to look after him?”

Mirage allowed the subject change with all his usual grace, and nodded. “I will speak to him when he wakes to be certain, but I know he is already fond of you.”

“Is he?” Drift snickered.

Mirage smiled, then settled down. “Yes. Try not to use that too much to your advantage.”

“Won’t be tonight at any rate. What’d you do to him?”

Mirage’s fingers slid around to Blurr’s back, dipping to the connection site of the Racer’s turbines. He lightly stroked one finger along the edge where it hooked into Blurr’s back. Drift snickered again as Blurr shivered and whimpered static without waking.

“Nice.”

“It truly is. I was also whispering some rather suggestive words to him.”

Drift grinned, then shifted around in the following silence, pretty sure he was going to wake up on the floor no matter how he lay.

He was just on the edge of dropping into recharge when Mirage spoke.

“Will you?”

“Yeah.” Drift pressed closer, looping his arm over Blurr and Mirage both, more out of the desire to stay on the berth than a deeper affection, but Mirage purred softly, whispering a thank you. Drift mumbled something like an acknowledgement back, but it’d been a long day.


End file.
